This Was a Romance Fantasy World 3
Rian pointed at the main gate and asked.
Hundreds of noble heirs and ladies clutched stacks of paperwork, lining up at the reception desk for verification. It was clearly a spot demanding thorough pre-registration and identity checks. But Iril just snorted and lifted her chin proudly.
"I'm one of the rare 9-Circle great mages on the continent, you know. You think there's no way around it?"
She rummaged in her bosom and pulled out a faded golden metal plaque. Its surface bore the Solarrium Academy emblem alongside intricate magical formations.
"Take a look. This is the 'Great Mage Special Recommendation' personally endorsed by the academy dean himself. With this baby, you skip all the paperwork and reviews—total free pass."
"Oh. There's something like that?"
"Of course. The previous dean got down on his knees and begged me to take it."
Iril's voice dripped with arrogance. As a centuries-old elf great mage, she clearly wanted to show off her prestige to her disciple.
Rian peered at the metal plaque with genuine interest.
"When'd you get it?"
"Oh, about 55 years ago."
Iril stood tall and proud. To an elf, 55 years wasn't long at all—it felt as fresh as yesterday.
But Rian's mind whirred with instant calculations at her answer.
'I'm 13. Master got the recommendation 55 years ago. 55 divided by 13 is roughly 4.23.'
His eyes widened in pure awe. He clapped sincerely.
"Wow, that's impressive."
"Heh, right? Now you finally see how amazing your master is…"
"To snag that kind of authority over 4.2 times my lifetime ago! As expected of a seasoned elder. Guess this is why we respect our elders."
Not a hint of sarcasm—just pure, data-driven admiration. Which made it all the more infuriating for Iril.
Her pointed ears flushed red, a vein bulging on her forehead.
"Y-You little punk…! Didn't I teach you it's taboo to bring up an elf's age?!"
"Ow! I was just stating facts—why hit me?!"
Iril mercilessly flicked Rian's crown. He clutched his head, looking wronged. But she grabbed his nape and marched straight through the academy's main gate.
"Lady Iril! You've come!"
In the academy's main building lobby, the magic faculty dean overseeing admissions exams and a gaggle of senior professors rushed out barefoot at the news of the great mage's arrival. The white-bearded dean, it seemed, revered Iril like his predecessor.
He bowed deeply, face alight with emotion.
"It's been three years! Ha ha! Here for the academy library again?"
"No. Today it's admissions I need."
The dean's eyes widened in surprise.
"Admissions? You don't mean…?"
"Yep. Brought my disciple to enroll."
Iril shoved Rian forward. All eyes in the lobby snapped to him.
Silence fell.
"This kid?"
The professors' eyes twitched violently. The haughty elf great mage, who hadn't taken a single disciple in centuries, had finally chosen one. They expected some mana-spewing noble prodigy.
Instead, a scrawny commoner kid stood before them.
'Way too skinny.'
'Looks like he hasn't eaten in a week.'
Rian's appearance was pitiful. Long-term malnutrition had hollowed his cheeks; his wrists were stick-thin like twigs. But a closer look revealed something more.
A sharp nose, deep chilling eyes, and flawless skeletal proportions. Sure, he was emaciated now, but with the academy's nutrient-rich meals and some age-appropriate filling out, he'd clearly grow into a continent-top heartthrob.
That was future potential, though. Right now, he was just a bony commoner.
"Yawn."
Even in this historic moment, the boy ignored the stares, mumbling at the ceiling.
"Lunch today… got meat? Gotta have meat. Promised meat every meal. Hm. Pork or beef? What spices…?"
"……."
The dean cleared his throat, masking his fluster.
"Ahem! Lady Iril's judgment is surely impeccable. But by regulation, even with a great mage's recommendation, we require basic mana measurement and a practical exam."
"I know. That's why I brought him. Let's get started."
Iril shrugged coolly. Rian was escorted separately to a special exam hall overseen by the professors.
The exam hall was a massive indoor training ground ringed by thick mana barriers. At the center loomed layered translucent blue barriers.
"The test is simple, little one," the dean explained kindly from the observation seats. "Those barriers are a special mana gauge designed to withstand up to 5-Circle spells. Fire your highest-circle magic at them to prove its power. No pressure—just do your best."
The dean and professors watched leisurely, chins propped. They'd already pegged him: even as a great mage's disciple, he was just 13. Most noble geniuses barely formed their first Mana Circle at that age; 2-Circle was a miracle. They expected a basic 1-Circle Magic Missile at best.
But Rian's mind raced elsewhere.
'Sigh. Should've pushed to 4-Circle last night.'
He sighed inwardly. Yesterday in the forest, he'd completed 3-Circle in five minutes flat. By his math, applying 4D cube topology to jump to 4-Circle was trivial.
So why stop at 3?
Simple: laziness.
'Eh, was busy last night anyway.'
Recalling continental common sense was easy. But even with 3-Circle formed, he knew no spells. So he'd devoured Iril's grimoire of 1- to 3-Circle magic, memorizing it instantly.
Optimizing every spell his way? That ate the whole night.
'Too bad. Guess basic 3-Circle it is.'
Rian raised his hand lazily. No chant. No mudra. Just mental equations, solved. Then a casual finger flick.
'Fireball.'
The foundational 3-Circle fire spell—efficient and common.
But the flame at his fingertip wasn't the professors' red, heat-wasting orb.
Mana controlled to perfection, 100% combustion efficiency. Zero waste. Hyper-compressed, it burned beyond red—a blinding white with a chilling blue edge.
"Uh…?"
One professor gawked at the anomaly.
Then—
Shwoooom—!
The white fireball streaked out, blisteringly fast. It hit the 5-Circle barrier—
BOOOOMMM—!!!
A deafening roar shredded eardrums. No time to measure or absorb—the special barrier shattered like glass, vaporizing.
And it kept going. The white beam slammed the far wall. Explosion. The 1-meter-thick mana-blocking outer wall tore like paper, a massive hole blasted through.
"……."
Dust settled in the silent hall. No breaths, no sound. Everyone had forgotten to exhale.
"Wh-what…?"
Professors gaped, jaws slack. Some tumbled from chairs; one shredded his scorecard.
Only the dean, hands trembling, pointed from the ruined wall to Rian.
"Th-that… that was 9-Circle master-level mana control!"
His voice cracked.
"The output only 9-Circle great mages get from low-tier spells with max efficiency! H-how many years has that kid trained?! Meditating in the womb?!"
His reason frayed at the impossibility.
Amid the chaos, Iril rubbed her throbbing temple and sighed deeply. She dropped the brutal truth, casually pulverizing their minds.
"…Yesterday."
"Pardon? Private lessons with a master since yesterday?"
"No. Yesterday was his first day learning magic."
"…Pardon?"
The dean doubted his ears. Yesterday? First magic lesson? Yet 3-Circle? And that power?
His brain tangled. But Iril, face serene in enlightenment, clarified.
"No joke. He formed that 3-Circle in five minutes in the forest yesterday. Spent last night tweaking all 1- to 3-Circle spells his way, so he's stuck there."
The dean and professors desperately wished it was a dream. If not for Iril—a 9-Circle great mage—they'd call it an unbelievable lie. Rian's Fireball alone was madness enough.
"Why'd that monster even come to the academy? What could he possibly learn?"
the dean asked seriously.